


The Birds Don't Fly This High

by AraceliL



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 09:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4913308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AraceliL/pseuds/AraceliL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ganondorf and Zelda find surprising solace in each other as Ganondorf struggles to control the two sides of him: the part dominated by a desire and lust for power, and the part retained for his own soul. Is he a man or a monster?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Birds Don't Fly This High

The Birds Don’t Fly This High

 

Shrouded in a grey twilight world, surreal blots of muddled green and the occasional blood orange fireworking through, the Princess sat tall in the windowsill, face as still as stone with a mind working overtime.

There wasn’t too much to be said for the stoic princess that simple cliches couldn’t already describe. Eyes as blue as the sky. Hair as long and flowing as a waterfall. Skin white as snow. Lips red as rubies. 

But none of those would be accurate. To him, at least, he knew her so much more than the history books would say. The people who would write about her would only ever explain that “the beautiful Princess Zelda was imprisoned by the evil Demon Thief Ganon” and nothing more. They didn’t know her like he did.

Her skin was fair, almost fair enough to be as light as the dim sun that peeked timidly through the cool green-light twilight clouds, but not perfect. There were tiny mahogany freckles dotting the tip of her pointed nose, sprinkling along her cheeks and the sparsest bit along her browline. Surrounding these was a light dusting of rose along those cheeks, not as high as wide. Still beautiful, somehow, especially when her lips moved them up in a wide smile. Those dusty pink lips, coral when she sunk her teeth into them delicately, mindlessly, moving as gently as mist onto the ground. The creases at the corner of those lips betrayed her serene face, and practiced as she was, he prided himself in knowing how to deepen them further.

He could see the gears speeding up in her head, moving so rapidly they almost sparked from friction, trying to figure things out. Figure what out?

Ah, he smiled wryly to himself, a twisted mixture of triumph and tenderness.  

She was trying to figure out why she actually enjoyed the twilight.

“Ganondorf.” Her musical voice, rough from wear, broke the silence circling them like an intimate cloud. 

Whether or not he was surprised she knew he was watching, he reluctantly unfolded himself from the door frame. 

“Yes?” he rumbled, both loathing and admiring the way his voice seemed to make the very air tremble. If the princess noticed it, she either wasn’t impressed, or had gone numb to it. Either way, he felt a rush of embarrassment at wanting her to notice.

“Why are there no birds passing?” 

Maybe he had been wrong, he thought as he took surprisingly nimble steps toward her, shaking away the strange recollection of destiny that fell upon him as he kept his focus on her slim frame, silhouetted by the twilight. 

“The birds don’t fly this high, little princess,” he murmured, uncaring to how tender his voice became. He was already defying the goddesses, so why bother hide it? He was not a man of secrecy. Stealth, subtly, cunning, and mystery, yes, but he had always felt it foolish to hide things that had to pertain to emotions. 

Her certain gaze never faltered as he lowered himself across from her on the window seat, letting his back rest against the window. He had seen enough of the twilight to last the next few lifetimes, but of her, he would never get enough. He felt like a thirsty man as he watched her watching the skies, but the part of him that made him tender also kept his lust in check. She was like a delicate piece of artwork that he was only allowed to look at, not touch, and he dared not break those rules for fear of being restricted from looking at it at all.

“Why not?” Calm, entrancing, genuinely curious notes melded into the melody of her voice. Still her gaze never swayed.

“While I’m sure they’re not fond of their new--” here he paused as a monstrous bird screech was heard off to the distance, “-- friends , I believe it’s due to those clouds. Something about them instinctively tells them to stay away.”

“You believe that?” she said, her voice trembling with something other than mere curiosity, struggling to remain calm. He could hear it, that voice about to tip over the brink of whatever emotion she was attempting to cage.

“Of course,” he said carefully, watching her even more intensely now. And still her eyes would not fall, staring at the clouds, refusing to let him read her face like the book she knew he could. 

“You really believe that creatures are born with instincts to stay away from those things dangerous to them?” she murmured, voice dropping suddenly, and then her eyes were on his.

They would say her eyes were blue, he knew. Blue as the sky! But it was all rubbish. What they didn’t know was the sky wasn’t blue, and neither were her eyes. They were crystalline orbs, sometimes storm-wrenched grey, sometimes the color of the ocean at night, sometimes a brilliant sapphire that seemed as though Nayru herself had shed her blood. No singular word could describe their hypnotic gaze, spanning centuries and lifetimes and destinies no one but Wisdom itself could fathom. And these eyes, so far away, yet so painfully real they cut him so, every emotion brimming with life and passion to the point that he wondered how in all of hell she could keep her pretty little face so blank. He had reasoned that all of her emotions must have found asylum in her eyes, but after seeing her weep long and deeply enough to tear a nation down, laugh hard enough to brand a smile into those rosy lips, and think intensely enough to fuse her forehead to her brow, he knew her face could also house those powerful emotions. He knew her better than anybody.

And her eyes were boring into him, daring him to take a guess at the meaning of her statement, refusing to give a hint as to her tone. Were all women so tricky, or just his fickle little princess? A part of him gave a frustrated sigh, the other perked in delight at playing her games.

“I do, actually,” he began cautiously, trying his best to keep the smirk off his face, and failing miserably, “though, I would argue that in some cases...some...mutations occur...which may result in one not recognizing danger when they see it.”

And there went her face, lighting up as the white mask was torn away. Ah, how he reveled in tearing it away! How incredible to see one face so positively swimming with emotions after being blank the second before, and all because of him.

Her eyes sparkled with delight, and as always, he was amazed at her openness. Lips curled into a returning grin, she taunted at him, body leaning towards him ever so slightly. He didn’t know if she noticed, and he didn’t care.

“Oh?” she whispered, leaning ever so closer. “And do you have any credible examples?”

Her eyes were as bright as the sun on the sea. “I think I may know one or two,” he whispered back, his mind waging an internal war of  don’t you dare and  why does it matter anyway? as her lips drifted closer, so close he could almost taste them --

And then she was back away again, leaving him to exhale a sharp breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Her eyes were taunting, but he could see the good-natured humor behind them. 

Worry struck him as he prepared to fight to control his temper, and he was met with honest relief as it failed to quell up. Was he mastering himself?

The princess was looking at him warmly, but it was a look he didn’t quite recognize.

That gaze refused to move as her lips did. “Ganondorf,” she began, and he jolted at hearing his name sung in her sweet, now-husky voice. “Are you in love with me?”

The honest question was hidden behind a layer or two of protective teasing she could use as a blockade in case the bid went wrong. But Ganondorf felt no need to hide the obvious.

“Yes,” he said, firmly, not hesitating in the gaze of the princess. He met her eyes back, refusing to show anything had transpired, and she did the same, and for a second he despaired at their continuous little battles of apathy.

“I thought so,” she replied, taking a second to glance away, then back out the window. “Don’t you realize what an abomination this is to the goddesses? To fate?”

She turned to observe him with her wise eyes as he shrugged. “Of course. What does that matter to me?”

“You’re a bearer of the Triforce,” she said, one hand reaching out to play idly with the knitted fabric of the window seat. “The goddesses blessed you.”

“The goddesses cursed me,” he growled, feeling the temper he so feared roaring back to life. “Those damned goddesses cursed me to an eternal battle I can never win!”

His fists, clenched on the seat, suddenly found a feather-light touch on them, and his breathing shallowed out again. 

She gently lifted his chin with one long finger. “Not necessarily.”

He tugged his hand away, feeling stubborn. “How, Zelda? How am I supposed to live like this? I’m not like the others. I did what I did because I felt I had to. I was compelled by Power, overwhelmed by lust and greed for a country that Power wanted, but I didn’t. I’m a two-part being, constantly being split in two by a desire for Power that isn’t mine, and my own soul that cannot handle this unbearable curse.”

Her kind eyes watched as struggled to recapture his emotions, seeing his very being burning with the torture of only being held together by sloppy stitches that didn’t use anaesthetic. 

“I’m not like the others,” he repeated, staring at her with hollowed eyes. “I can usually control myself on the outside, and then I allow myself to be persuaded that this is my goal, this is my destiny, my duty. And I was believing it, too...until you came along and destroyed the charade I had set up to make this existence bearable.”

She felt shock flood through her body, not at his words, but at the warmth she received from hearing them. Guilt followed immediately afterward. She knew she shouldn’t be doing this, but she could not deny the change he had brought in her, a passion she never knew she could experience. 

“Yes, Zelda, I know you know I’m a perverted abomination for loving you. But I’ll be damned if that wasn’t what I was before anyway. But you…” 

That warmth trickled up to her throat and took her heart along with it as his large hand cupped her cheek gently, a contact both worrying and numbingly pleasant. 

“You reminded me that abomination I may be, I’m still just a man. I never wanted this Power. I’m not the god it tries to convince me I am, or can be. You, with your big emotions and quiet mask, with the breathtaking eyes and the ability to somehow make a man like me tender…You reminded me I’m still just a man, regardless of what my name is.”

His eyes, gold as the sunset, pierced hers with those feelings she didn’t know she could feel. “And I don’t care if you don’t love me in return. I don’t expect, don’t even believe it’s possible. I didn’t answer you honestly to make you feel afraid or guilty. But this love I feel for you keeps me harbored. It anchors me in this storm of struggle over my fate. I don’t care what happens to me anymore, because it will happen regardless of what I decide. Such is the will of the goddesses.”

“No!” Zelda broke out, voice startling him with its flurry of passion. “Goddesses they may be, but they can’t control their creations. Our destinies, maybe; but our actions? Never!”

And with that, she leaned forward and touched her lips to his. Eyes wide, Ganondorf watched in astonishment as she kissed him, gently at first, then with increasing passion, pressing her body closer and closer to his. Before he knew it, she was completely in his arms, and his mind balked at attempting to comprehend what was happening: the Princess of Hyrule, in the arms of the Demon Thief? But he didn’t care. Every nerve was a livewire as he took her in, feeling a part of himself sealing up with every kiss, a resentment and a relief with every touch. She was blossoming in his arms, and every movement felt like a shared secret to the goddesses that they couldn’t control. It was a blissful, crooked harmony, and he felt as though if he had to die a thousand horrible deaths, it would all be okay if he knew she was waiting for him at the end.

Finally, she pulled away, breathing shaky, while a nervous chuckle escaped her lips. “See,” she whispered into his own anxious breathing, “they can’t do anything. If they can’t control where the birds fly, how can they control us?”

He stared at her in awe, then threw his head back in a long bout of amazed laughter. “You’re right,” he said finally, and leaned in to kiss her again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, please leave a review if you have any comments! Thanks :D


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